


Raeidh

by itslaurenmae



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Gen, Headcanon, Is it a oneshot if it's under a certain number of words? idk this is short but I'm still posting, One Shot, Runes, Short One Shot, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26984995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itslaurenmae/pseuds/itslaurenmae
Summary: Stiorra carves runes.
Kudos: 9





	Raeidh

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr - This short ficlet was from a prompt I received for a headcanon about Stiorra. Please enjoy!

Stiorra carves runes. 

Uhtred showed her how once, many years ago, when she'd been a little girl. She saw him etching one onto the hilt of the wooden sword she and her brother practiced sparring with late one night, when she was supposed to already be asleep. She'd asked him what it was, and he told her, "this is Raeidh." 

He showed her how to hold the knife and taking her small child hands in his, moved the blade over the marks he'd already made, further etching the rune in.

"What does it mean?" she asked, the firelight warm on her face, hair still damp from bathing in the river earlier that evening. 

"Riding. A journey," her father replied, blowing the last few shards of wood onto the floor. 

"Where are you going?" 

"Not far, daughter." 

"You always say that." 

He'd kissed her on the cheek and wrapped her in his arms, hoisted her off the bench and taken her to bed. 

"You'll have journeys of your own some day," he told her as he tucked her in, kissing her on the forehead. "Keep practicing with your stick sword. For you _will_ have journeys of your own someday. Good night, my daughter." 

The day the siege at Winchester ended, Stiorra found herself carving Raeidh into a branch Sigtryggyr had brought inside for her from the courtyard. She was still a hostage of some sort, maybe, but she could sense the change in the air. Her father and Sigtryggr were talking in another room, and she was looking to the future. With each swipe of the knife into the bark, she carved her hopes, her anticipation. To her own riding, and to the journeys ahead of her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on tumblr at @itslaurenmae


End file.
